經律異相 10.26

10.26

When the Buddha was in the state of Śrāvastī, he told the monks: In the past, the bodhisattva was a great king named Universal Brightness (Puming). His benevolence and kindness radiated afar, praised and sung throughout the ten directions; the people wished for his well-being as a filial son cares for his parents. In a neighboring country there was a king named Aguṇ (A-qun), whose governance followed justice, whose strength was like a lion's, and whose swiftness was like a soaring hawk's. The butcher went out early in the morning to seek meat in the market, but seeing a fresh corpse by the road, he took it, considering it delicious, and mixed it with animal meat. On a later day, he prepared a meal, but its sweetness was not equal to it. The king reprimanded the head of the kitchen; the butcher confessed sincerely, kowtowing and admitting his fault. The king's heart felt shame and he said: 'Is human flesh that sweet?' He secretly ordered the butcher to make this a regular practice. Therefore it is said: 'One who indulges in flavors becomes meager in benevolence; when benevolence is meager, the heart of a jackal or wolf arises.' Wolves and dogs crave the flavor of meat and destroy the lives of living beings; therefore all under heaven regard them as enemies. Receiving the command, the butcher secretly went about killing people to provide food for the king. The ministers and commoners clamored, and with one mind and voice they drove him out. The king fled into the mountains, watching for various kings to come forth; swooping upon the crowd, he seized them just as hawks and falcons strike at swallows and sparrows. He captured ninety-nine kings. At that time, King Universal Brightness went out to observe the hardships and joys of the people. On the road he met a brahmacārin, who said: 'King, do not go out.' The king said: 'Having issued a command, I must go out; it is hard to violate trustworthy words.' Thereupon he went out, and was captured by Aguṇ. The king said: 'I do not fear losing my life; I only regret breaking my trust.' Aguṇ said: 'What do you mean?' The king explained it in full: 'When the adept saw me going out, he gave words of admonition. I wish to see him once more to receive his profound admonitions, fulfill my promises, and then return to die without regret.' Aguṇ released him, permitting him to return temporarily. Having seen the adept, he gave him gold coins, received [the teaching], and with a smile on his face returned to Aguṇ's place. [Aguṇ] asked: 'Your life is in mortal danger right now; why are you joyful and smiling?' He replied: 'The words of the Bhagavat are rarely heard in the three realms. Now that I cherish them within me, what kingdom or life is worth regretting?' Aguṇ said further: 'I wish to hear the venerable teaching.' The king then imparted it to him. Aguṇ was astonished and joyful, saying: 'Towering is the Bhagavat who expounds the four impermanences! Those who do not hear or see them are what is called mad and rebellious.' He immediately released the hundred kings, sending each back to his country. Aguṇ repented and reformed himself; dwelling by a tree, he contemplated the four verses day by day. When his life ended, his consciousness transferred, and he became a crown prince. Having taken a wife, he proved to be impotent, which caused the king profound grief. He therefore recruited women of the kingdom to transform him and make him a man. Afterwards, he indulged in debauchery and did not follow the path of chastity. The king had him quartered at the crossroads, ordering the passersby: 'Tap his head with your fingers, merely to humiliate him.' Just when ninety-nine people had done so, the prince died. His spirit transformed, transmigrating without end. Meeting the Buddha in the world, he was born in the state of Śrāvastī. Losing his father early, he lived alone with his mother and practiced the path of the brahmacārins. His nature was sincere and truthful, and his strength could fell an elephant. His master loved him and his companions respected him, and near and far he was praised as virtuous. Whenever the master traveled about, he entrusted the household to him. The master's wife harbored lust; coming forward, she took his hand and seduced him with licentious words. Aguṇ refused, saying: 'Among elderly people of the world, men are my fathers and women are my mothers; how much more so my master's wife! I would rather burn my body than dare violate this code.' The master's wife was ashamed; returning indoors, she pondered how to alter the situation. She whispered to her husband, saying: 'You praised that virtuous one—does he truly illuminate your standards?' She falsely detailed his offenses, her feminine bewitchment seeming real, so that the brahmacārin believed her. The master said to Aguṇ: 'Do you wish to become an immortal?' He answered: 'Yes.' [The master] taught him to kill a hundred people and cut off their fingers, so that he might attain immortality. Obeying the command, he struck with his sword, killing everyone he met, and obtained the fingers of ninety-nine people. The multitude fled, and the kingdom shook. Seeing his mother, he rejoiced, saying: 'My mother has arrived to complete the number; I shall now become an immortal!' The Buddha, mindful that heterodox paths delude the multitude and that all the world prays against this, transformed into a śramaṇa and walked before him, saying: 'The number of people is complete.' Pursuing from behind, [Aguṇ] could not catch up, and said: 'Śramaṇa, stop!' [The Buddha] replied: 'I have stopped; it is you who do not stop.' Aguṇ's mind opened brightly as if clouds were cleared away. Throwing his five limbs to the ground, he kowtowed and repented. Joining his palms, he followed him back to the vihāra and became a śramaṇa. The Buddha expounded to him his past deeds and manifested the four impermanences, whereupon he attained the stage of stream-enterer. The king wished to punish him, but hearing of this, he sighed in admiration and addressed the Buddha, wishing to see him once. The Buddha said: 'The virtuous one of supreme virtue may open one eye to look upon you.' This was repeated three times. [Aguṇ] replied: 'The brightness of my eyes shines so fiercely that it is hard to bear.' The king bowed his head and said: 'Tomorrow I shall prepare a modest meal; I hope you will grace us with a glance.' He replied: 'I will go to a privy, but not to a palace hall.' The king said: 'Your command shall be obeyed.' Returning, he tore down a privy and dug up the ground, making pillars and beams of fresh camphor and catalpa wood. Perfumed water was poured over the ground, and sandal, storax, saffron, and various incenses were blended to make mud. Rugs of fine woolen cloth and variegated silk were made into seats, embellished with carvings and various gems, dazzling and radiant, surpassing even the palace halls. The next day, the king personally held an incense burner to welcome him. Aguṇ took his seat. The king lifted his robes and walked on his knees, and after finishing the offering, [Aguṇ] preached the scripture, saying: 'The privy of yesterday was filthy; could one eat upon it?' [The king] answered: 'No.' 'Can one do so today?' He answered: 'Yes.' Aguṇ said: 'Before I saw the Buddha, I was as filthy as that latrine. Relying on past blessings, I was born to meet the Buddha's era; bathed in pure transformation, I removed foulness and harbored fragrance, pure inside and out like a divine pearl.' Wishing to drink, he passed through the marketplace, and heard that a woman was suffering from a breech birth, her life hanging by a thread. Returning, he reported the matter. The Buddha said: 'Go and deliver her child.' Aguṇ received the instruction and went to proclaim the Buddha's grace; both mother and child survived. The Buddha told Aguṇ: 'The day you received the Path may be called your first birth. One who does not see the Three Jewels and has not received the profound precepts is like a child in the womb: though having ears and eyes, what can he hear or see? He is called unborn.' Aguṇ's mind opened, and he immediately attained arhatship. The Buddha told the monks: 'King Universal Brightness at that time was myself. In a previous life, I imparted four verses to him, instantly saving a hundred kings; now this has enabled him to attain the Path and avoid manifold retributions. Aguṇ in a past life was once a monk: carrying a bushel of rice, he delivered it to a monastery, presented a knife to the Buddha, and praised the Honored One with joy, bowing his head before departing. Because he carried the rice, he gained great strength; because he offered the knife, he gained many treasures; because of his joy, he gained a handsome appearance; because he praised the Honored One, he became a king; because he made obeisance, he was revered by all in the kingdom. Because ninety-nine people tapped his head so that he lost his life, he killed his former enemies and cut off their fingers. When the last person was about to tap his head, she saw that he was already dead, and seeing a śramaṇa, she felt further compassion: that last person was his mother. Because she initially had malicious intent, Aguṇ likewise had ill intent; because she felt greater compassion upon seeing the śramaṇa, upon seeing the Buddha he immediately showed filial piety. Planting the pure yields the pure; planting the mixed yields the mixed. Once good and enmity are enacted, misfortune and fortune follow them; like a shadow following a form or an echo responding to a sound, they all have their causes and do not arise from nature' (Extracted from the Sūtra of King Universal Brightness).